A Midsummer Knight's Swim
by Dark Rose of Heaven
Summary: Second in the "Knight" Arc. A surprise birthday party for Kel turns into an all-out mud war, and the the suggestive by-play between Kel and Wyldon continues...


_Second in the "Knight" Arc. Enjoy!  
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><p><strong>A Midsummer Knight's Swim<strong>

He was beginning to think the picnic was a bad idea. Not the picnic in itself, of course. They weren't too far from New Hope, and Keladry's sparrows combined with Daine's own animal spies served as excellent warning against an attack (though an attack was extremely unlikely in this infernal heat). The trees provided ample shade, the food was simple but good, and the company better than most. Lord Raoul and his wife had managed to attend, along with several men of the Own. Sergeant Domitan, unfortunately, was still lying abed recovering from a very painful and embarrassing injury. Daine and Numair were present with their baby, as was Lady Alanna, whom Wyldon was very careful to avoid. Jesslaw, naturally, was present, as his squire. The rest were a motley collection of knights from his training days: Queenscove, Hollyrose, Tasride, Nicoline, King's Reach, Marti's Hill, and even the prince. And, of course, the guest of honor, Keladry herself.

It had been Nealan's idea, and as much as Wyldon hated to admit it, it was a good one. It wasn't everyday someone turned twenty, after all. When he'd received the invitation, the district commander had immediately retrieved paper and ink for his reply. The stifling heat of Midsummer had brought a lull to the fighting, and a small, intimate party was the perfect outlet for the stir-craziness that infiltrated the Tortallan forts. Once everyone had arrived, Daine and Owen spread out a large cloth on the ground, and with some assistance from Buri and Raoul, unpacked several hampers that had been supplied.

The final touch was the birthday girl. Merric had disappeared sometime during the setting-up, off to get his commander and friend with the lure of some tale or other. The group stood about patiently for several minutes, chatting in quiet voices, until three sparrows came winging through the trees, peeping the alarm.

"Get ready!" Nealan whispered, a little unnecessarily. But then Merric was leading a blindfolded Kel through the trees, and as he whipped it off, everyone stepped forward to shout "Surprise!"

All that was well and good. The food and drink was consumed with good cheer, and well-wishes and congratulations were given and received graciously. But it wasn't long before the younger knights – and some of the older – began to eye to nearby stream restlessly. It was a pretty, grassy clearing, rising into a mound before cutting down into the dark water, an offshoot of the Vassa. A small waterfall marked one end as it splashed through the clearing, ending in a rather deep, broad pool before swirling off into the trees. The perfect swimming-hole.

"I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm melting," Esmond said, plucking at his tunic and licking his lips as he stared at the burbling stream.

"Oh Mithros, I'm glad it's not just me," Merric retorted sarcastically. But he, too, was sending looks of longing towards the water.

Raoul stood, cracking his knuckles and dusting off his knees. "Well then, why sit around and complain when you can do something about it?"

Esmond glanced up at his district commander nervously. "What do you mean?"

"Why, a swim of course." The curly-haired giant was already unlacing his tunic. "It's plenty big for all of us, I should think."

"Keep your breeches on, dear," Buri said dryly.

Alanna, who was on her back with a damp wineskin draped over her forehead, gave a most unfeminine snort. "Possessive, aren't you, Buri? It's not like we haven't seen him in less – especially me."

Raoul aimed a kick at his petite friend's ribs. "Sometimes I worry about how much of an education you got when all of us went swimming while you, _Alan_, sweltered in the shade."

"Quite enough of one, thank you," Alanna retorted. "I think I'll just stay here and try and keep as still as possible. If that comes from the Vassa it'll be like plunging into ice, and I don't like the cold."

"Oh, c'mon Alanna!" Raoul pouted. "You tell her, Neal."

Neal was already shucking his tunic and undoing the laces of his shirt. "Yes, c'mon Alanna," he smirked. "Surely you don't get seasick while you're _in_ the water."

The lady knight lifted the wineskin just enough to give her former squire a glare. "Silence, Queenscove. I just don't like to swim."

Raoul chortled. "What a load of claptrap! Here, Kel, help me with this."

Kel, who had long since dispensed with her tunic and was a little cooler than the others, cast a dubious eye over her old knight-master. "I'm sure you can manage by yourself, sir. Besides, I'm not sure I'd like to be at the end of the Lioness' sword on my birthday."

Alanna cackled. "Good answer, Keladry. What – hey! Let go of me, you big lug! Get _off_ – Kel! Neal, Buri, Numair, _help me_!"

But everyone was laughing too hard to assist. Instead they sat about chortling as Raoul scooped up his feisty, violet-eyed friend, strode over to the stream, and dumped her into the pool with a great splash.

She came up spluttering, looking like a drowned rat. "Crone's teats, Raoul, just wait until I get you!"

Buri sniggered. "Good luck getting him into the water, Alanna. Trying to move him when he doesn't want to be moved is like trying to pick up a mountain."

"Besides," Raoul added, pulling his shirt over his head, "I already planned to get in."

Alanna had time for a shriek of exasperation before Raoul made a surprisingly light hop-skip and threw himself into the water. A tidal wave emerged from the pool, soaking everyone within three feet – especially Alanna. Scowling fit to bring the rain, the half-drowned lady knight stalked from the water and stood on the bank, glaring. "You'll pay for that, Goldenlake, just see if you don't!"

Sitting on the bottom with his head poking just above the water, Raoul sighed with pleasure. "Fire away, Lioness. I can die happy now that I've jumped in this delightful water."

The tittering group watched Alanna as she tapped her foot thoughtfully on the bank, making squelching sounds. Then, so quick they might have missed it if they blinked, she swooped down to one knee, gathered a handful of bank mud, and hurled it at her friend. It thwacked solidly into Raoul's face, catching him off guard.

"Mithros!" he exclaimed as he leaped upright, voice thick with mud. Water streamed off him as he strode to the bank. "Very well, Alanna. Prepare to get muddy!"

What followed was an incredibly violent and good-humored mud war. Mud flew in all directions – no one was spared. One by one people hopped into the water to rinse and cool off, only to be pelted again when they resurfaced. After only brief hesitation, even Kel pulled off her shirt and jumped in, her breeches and breastband soon indistinguishable from bare skin.

At first Wyldon managed to keep himself clean by keeping near to the blanket with Numair and Captain Flyndan. However, it was only a matter of time. A gobbet of mud caught him unawares from the deadly aim of his squire – nearly unrecognizable with the mud that coated him from knees to curls – and splattered against the collar of his tunic. The culprit gasped, giving his identity away, and all movement stilled as the mud warriors stopped to see what the older knight would do.

"Jesslaw." His voice was deadly quiet, masking the laughter bubbling up inside of him. He hadn't been in a scrap like this since his squire days.

"S-s-sir?" Gods above, the boy was trembling! The others exchanged nervous looks as Wyldon got to his feet, scraping a bit of mud onto his thumb and inspecting it.

"Out of the water, squire."

There was some sloshing as the boy scrambled onto the bank and stood dripping, naked torso plastered with mud. With all the deliberation of an executioner, Wyldon removed his tunic and let it fall to the ground before working on the laces of his shirt. He was already barefoot, so he had nothing to worry about on that account. Dipping his shirt in the water, he began to twist it.

"I don't suppose you've heard of a rattail, Jesslaw."

The boy's throat bobbed up and down. "N-n-n-no sir."

"Take it easy, Wyldon, the boy didn't mean it," Raoul began half-heartedly.

Wyldon spared him a glance. "He's my squire, Goldenlake. His punishment is my responsibility." He turned back to Jesslaw. "Turn around."

In dead silence, the boy obeyed. Before any honorable or Code-related doubts could surface, Wyldon threw the shirt aside and shoved the boy hard. Jesslaw went down with a yelp, crashing into the water with a wave almost as large as Raoul's.

"You cheat!" Alanna exclaimed, bursting into delighted laughter as Jesslaw floundered back to the surface. "You old dog, I didn't think you had it in you."

Wyldon allowed himself a smirk. "Why thank you, Lioness. I'm honored to receive such a compliment." His words were followed closely by a handful of mud to her forehead, and then the fight began again in earnest.

Somehow, in the middle of throwing mud and slipping and falling into the water and scrambling back to the surface, Wyldon found himself wrestling with Raoul near the water's edge. More than once he pinned the enormous knight, taking the opportunity to shovel mud thoroughly into his face and hair; but after each momentary victory, he always found himself on the bottom again, nearly blinded, half-drowned, and laughing fit to burst. Seeing his predicament, Kel took up armfuls of the brown stuff and launched herself at her old knight-master, shrieking war cries. Several Own men, along with Merric and Owen, joined the fray, wielding their own soggy missiles. At long last, Raoul surrendered amid much booing and jeering, stumbling to the bank to lay on the grass, heaving for breath. His wife soon followed, plopping down on the greensward beside him.

"Oof! That was quite a battle," she observed, looking around at the damage.

Taking in the rest of the breathless, worn-out gathering, Wyldon was forced to agree. He barely recognized any of them. Daine, with her curls stiffening as the mud dried, was the easiest to identify; Alanna's purple eyes blazed out from a brown face as she clapped him companionably on the shoulder before sloshing out of the water. Suddenly feeling too heavy to even make it to the grass, Wyldon sat heavily in the water with his back against the shallow waterfall, letting it rinse his back clean of mud.

"You have a hidden talent, milord," said a feminine voice as a mud-coated shape sat beside him, the water running brown around her waist.

"Indeed? And what would that be?"

Keladry sloshed her hands in the water and lifted them to her face, wiping off the worst of the muck. "Why, mud fighting of course! One would think you did it all the time."

This roused a chuckle from him, and he leaned forward to dip his head into the water. He wiped rivulets of muddy water from his face as he replied, "It's been a long time. The last time I had a mud fight was when I was a squire under Lord Imrah."

"Well, you certainly haven't lost your touch," she said playfully. "You hit very hard, my lord. I may have bruises in the morning."

"As will I, I'm sure," he admitted. Behind one hand that sought out clumps of mud in his short-cropped hair, he glanced at her bared torso, partially clean of mud and glistening wetly in the sunlight. "Are you certain you don't have the Sight, lady knight?"

She looked at him quizzically, forcing him to put a stop to his scrutiny. "The Sight?"

"Yes. You made a prediction not so long ago that we would find each other in such a situation. The Scanrans weren't involved this time, but the end result was much the same."

"Half naked, you mean?" she inquired blandly. "Yes, I suppose I have a knack for that." Her eyes sparkled with humor through the remaining streaks of mud. "It wouldn't bother you, would it, if I decided to make another such prediction?"

Wyldon suppressed a sigh of regret and stood, running his hands down his stomach to scrape off the last of the mud. "Indeed, lady knight, I fear such a prediction is hardly necessary. The way this summer is going, we'll be seeing each other in the nude before the month is out." With those parting words, he sloshed for the bank, smiling to himself at the laughter ringing out behind him. _Two can play at this game, Lady Knight_, he thought to himself smugly as he retrieved his shirt. _Two can play at this game._


End file.
